


Snapshots in Askr

by lisaong



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Gen, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, most heroes characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-23 12:23:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13787712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisaong/pseuds/lisaong
Summary: The Order of Heroes ignores the normal rules of the universe because of its summoner and allows for conversations and relationships that might have never happened otherwise.aka the random interactions between the heroes themselves and their summoner((most hero characters will likely make an appearance sometime, I'll probably stop tagging them at some point though because the list will get ridiculously long))





	1. Corrin

**Author's Note:**

> This came from a conversation I had with my friend and incorporates some of the headcanons we bounced off of each other.
> 
> Kiran doesn't have a specified gender for this series of chapters.
> 
> The chapters will be loosely related in the sense that they take place in the same universe and timeline but won't necessarily be directly associated with those before or after them.

She should be asleep.

It was well past midnight. Except for the footsteps of the night patrol, the halls were dead silent. 

They were fighting a war; it was imperative she be well rested in case of battle. But it was also one of those days when her past sins clung to her like a second skin, sticky and suffocating. Her fallen brother, a version of him at least, had come to join them in the war. He’d snarled hatred at her, but his eyes flickered with confusion. (he’d remembered her name.) Their summoner had pushed them all away gently as he grabbed at his head and she’d left with her hands shaking. 

(free me, Takumi had begged her as his soul handed her Fujin Yumi, free me from him.)

The same day, Ryoma had been badly injured in a skirmish and the sight of him bleeding branded itself into her retinas, blurring with the flickering image of his still, still body.

(he hadn’t even bled, vessels seared shut by the plasma hot heat of raijinto)

Camilla had coddled her afterwards, and both her younger sisters had come to ask if she was alright. They didn’t know (they couldn’t know) what was making her throat tighten like it did, but the bond that linked them together under the contract must have filtered something to them as Ryoma was looked after by Priscilla and Genny.

It was well past dinner time when Genny finally told them that Ryoma was going to be fine and let them in just as Priscilla and Lissa finished bandaging his wounds neatly. Corrin had left soon afterwards, claiming exhaustion, but the quiet of her room was suffocating with ghosts and phantoms and mistakes and she’d gotten up after a few hours of tossing and turning.

_Corrin?_

She blinked at her name, realising that while lost in her thoughts, she’d made her way to the main library. Kiran was sitting there, a pile of books around them. For the first time that day, there wasn’t the lingering shadow of a possessed Takumi hovering nearby and Corrin couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped. There was a familiar touch in her mind as the summoner’s curiosity flickered, but it receded as quickly as it came to coalesce into a question.

_Why are you awake?_

“Why are you awake? We need our tactician in good health.” Corrin dodged, frowning at the seated figure as worry overtook any other thought for the time being.

Kiran shrugged and returned to rifling through the books scattered on the floor.

_Muspell and Nifl are interesting countries. Askr is a newcomer to their war. Granted, we have Fjorm’s expertise and the warriors of several realms, but Sutr is a formidable foe and there is much to learn if we hope for victory._

They closed a tome and picked up another, noting something as they did so. Corrin sat down as well to watch.

_You didn’t answer my question. Why are you awake? Camilla and Takumi came personally to scold me for exhausting you so. They probably had more to say but Grima happened to be talking to me at that time._

They flipped another page as amused exasperation fluttered around them. Corrin bit her lip, debating whether or not she wanted to say anything.

“When I first came here, you told Prince Alfonse that I came from the world of Conquest and my counterpart was from the world of Birthright.”

Kiran didn’t look up from what they were doing, but Corrin saw the tilt of their head in an invitation to continue.

“What did you mean by that?”

This made them pause and look up, eyes flat and carefully blank. Even their mind was wary and Corrin stiffened unconsciously. The summoner eventually sighed soundlessly and dropped the book they were holding, leaning back against the shelf behind them.

_There are… differences that occur as a consequence of your decisions. In your case, by choosing to side with Nohr, the fates of those around you were impacted differently than if you chose to side with Hoshido like your counterpart did._

“So things would have turned out differently if I chose Hoshido instead.” Corrin whispered shakily.

(ryoma might have lived. takumi wouldn’t have suffered. she wouldn’t be plagued by guilt)

_Not necessarily._

Kiran made her jump, realising belatedly that she was projecting her thoughts rather loudly over the contracted bond. It seemed to be an offhanded thought though as they stacked the books into two neat piles and stood up to look for more material. Corrin caught their arm.

“What do you mean?”

 _Your counterpart comes to me with similar nightmares,_ there was a flicker of tired sadness weaved into the sentence, _I do not understand why neither of you will speak to your siblings about them. I am willing to listen, but I cannot help you past that._

“You knew.” Corrin whispered

 _I guessed,_ Kiran corrected her, _There are only so many times I can feel your panic over your brothers and not draw a conclusion._

They sighed again, gently prying Corrin’s fingers off their sleeve, _I don’t know exactly what happened, but I highly doubt it was solely your fault. Your older brothers’ rivalry when they were first summoned is legendary among our older allies. They’d only recently become tentative friends when I summoned you._

“But they could be reconciled. If only I’d-”

 _Stop. If you keep doing that, you’ll only spiral downward._ Kiran paused in their skimming of book bindings, considering, _I can keep you company if you want, but I still think you should talk to your siblings._

“Will you tell them?”

_No. Everyone has secrets they keep. The contract already takes away some of your privacy. I’m not going to make it worse. You really should talk to them though._

Corrin bit her lip, studying the seams between the slabs of stone making up the floor and disappearing under the rug they were standing on as Kiran plucked another thick tome from the shelves and added it to the pile on the floor.

“I’ll think about it.”

_That’s good._

They picked up their pen and resumed writing, sketching down the odd symbol as they turned the pages of the newest addition to their research. Corrin watched, letting the rhythmic sound soothe her into sleep.


	2. Kiran

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my friend, who kind of kickstarted this whole thing to begin with.
> 
> Ike is her favorite and this is an idea I've had for a while so here it is. Chrom and Ike also share a common language here even though they're from different games. There's... a reason for that (it's not a good reason, but there is one) so that's a slight deviation from headcanon
> 
> ((it's also my first time writing these two so they're probably a little OOC. Hopefully it's not too bad?))

It was the start of a relatively nice day and Chrom could almost pretend that he was back in Ylisse if not for the presence of the other male with him in the training barracks. Ike was a good sparring partner though, talented in swordplay and one of the few heroes who happened to share a common language with Chrom’s homeland. The link that made them a cohesive team was great and all for basic communication, but Chrom liked to hold an actual conversation when possible.

They were just finishing up when a flare of energy rumbled through the stones of the castle and familiar presences brushed against the bond.

 _Grima, no._ Kiran’s exasperation drifted down the long corridors of the Askran castle, wreathing around them like morning fog. It was followed closely by a bone chilling amusement and the clanking of heavily armored boots.

Ike paused what he was doing to stare warily at the entrance as Chrom unconsciously reached for where Falchion was laying next to his discarded armor. There were a few moments of tense silence as the sound and darkness faded away deeper into the castle followed by a few more as both of them forcibly relaxed. Chrom dropped his death grip on the legendary blade, wiping away sweat that was suddenly not solely from the sparring session.

“Do you… do you think Kiran might be a little…” Chrom paused awkwardly.

“Insane? Naive? A combination of those?” Ike finished dryly, still eying the general direction they'd heard the footsteps from, “I don't know. They certainly don't appear to be either of those things.” 

“But Grima.” Chrom muttered and felt Ike’s sympathetic understanding, “And not just Grima, Kiran seems to get along with an entire host of questionable people.”

The Black Knight. Arvis. Valtar. Narcian. Just to name a few. People Chrom would normally trust just about as far as he could throw them, which, considering the bulk of some, wasn't very far, simply walked the halls of Askr without restraint. Kiran treated the more volatile among them with some level of wariness, but allowed their company without discrimination and as far as Chrom knew, discussed battle tactics with them as casually as they did with anyone else.

It brought into question whether or not Kiran really had a solid moral code or if they were as blank as the wispy clouds on an early dawn. He didn’t know which was better.

“Kiran’s character hasn’t changed since I was summoned.” Ike said, blunt as always, rebuckling his vambraces, “Our more questionable allies radiate malice. I’ve yet to feel actual malice from Kiran.”

“That’s true.” Chrom muttered, remembering the sharp mind behind every tactical decision, plans formed in a tumble and discarded just as quickly. Kiran’s emotions were ice cold during battle, but it never felt like they were playing with lives. Allies were wounded during battle, of course, some badly enough that Kiran kept them out of the frontlines for weeks. In the aftermath of those injuries though, when he’d talk to others about the choices made, the conclusion was usually the same. It was a couple injured soldiers against an entire group being put out of commission. As the tactician, Kiran made the best choice.

“Soren may hold a grudge against Kiran for that. He’s been irritable about me fighting ever since that one skirmish went downhill.”

Chrom snorted, accepting the shoulder guard Ike held out to him, allowing his own fond amusement to flicker in answer to his companion's, “The same thing with Frederick. He hasn’t stopped twitching every time Kiran assigns me to a team, even if it’s for training. Kiran’s gotten good at finding me when Frederick isn’t there.”

Wherever the conversation might have gone afterwards was cut off by Princess Sharena poking her head in to tell them that breakfast was ready in a cheery voice and the three of them headed down to the dining hall.


	3. Shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lowkey this comes from Leon's line in Heroes about needing to keep up with the latest trends and Lucina's unfortunate taste in fashion.

“What do you think of this?” Lucina asked, sending her expectant curiosity to her companion as she held up a combination of cloth.

Leon’s response was one of horrified rejection, mixed between his tone of voice and over the bond. Lucina had no idea what the archer said exactly, but it was enough for her to understand that he disapproved immensely nonetheless. She saw nothing particularly wrong with the colors she'd picked out. They were vibrant and beautiful (everything her grim future was not), full of life and hope. But Lucina had asked Leon to come with her because she knew her taste was more than a little off when it came to fashion, so she deferred to his opinion and dropped her selection. 

Perhaps sensing some of her dark thoughts, fleeting as they were, the cocktail of confused horror softened in the slightest and Leon came to stand next to her, pulling one of the patterned, pastel fabrics she’d been considering and placing it back into her hands before indicating a different shelf and heading over to it. 

Lucina followed him over with some level of trepidation. Weren’t clothes supposed to match? She’d assumed that patterns would work with patterns. Cynthia had told her at one point when they were trying to improve her sense of fashion, during a lull in the constant state of war she had inherited, that things were supposed to match. The intricate swirling of the fabric she was currently holding didn’t fit with the solid colors she was standing in front of.

This was one of the few times she wished the bond between her and her fellow heroes was a bit stronger. The impressions and emotions it allowed coupled with some pandemiming was more than enough for general conversation, but did little to help with very specific questions that needed very specific answers. Attempting to reduce her question into something that the bond would be able to pick up was only giving her a headache.

Leon huffed, misinterpreting the cause of her frustration and Lucina started at the wave of irritation that flared across the bond.

“Oh no, I’m not- you’re a great help. I didn’t mean that.”

He couldn’t understand her, but it got her point across nonetheless and the narrowed eyes relaxed. Curiosity flickered against her mind as she turned her attention back to the cloth, rifling through the different colors. Lucina hummed in response but couldn’t offer a satisfactory explanation without causing confusion and Leon didn’t push farther. They stood in silence for a while as Lucina tried to find something that her companion wouldn't recoil at. 

It was very slow progress. 

She felt like a child waiting for approval as her companion frowned in consideration of each choice. Quite a couple times, Leon tugged her away from certain colors altogether. Lucina didn’t understand why, not really, the different shades may have clashed but the red and blue of her clothes clashed and that didn’t elicit the same reaction from Leon.

The purple haired archer’s only response to her confusion was a long suffering sigh. Lucina resolved to find Kiran later to ask.

(she loved and respected her father, but her mother had always said that she’d inherited her sense of fashion from Chrom. 

so if she didn’t understand what Leon meant by clashing colors, Lucina highly doubted her father would understand very much either.)

Eventually, she found several swathes of fabric that Leon didn’t wrinkle his face at and left feeling very tired but also very satisfied. 

There were some clothes that caught her attention on the way back but Leon actually looked faint when she went over to inspect them and Lucina didn't want him to collapse on her. Although, if she's honest, the outfits she ended up picking out weren't the most conventional ones anyway. There was very little she knew of Kiran’s personal preferences but they dressed quite a bit like Robin so Lucina guessed their tastes might be similar.

(and while Robin had never said outright that they didn’t like the clothes she chose, Lucina wasn’t _that_ dense.)

Her musing was broken when just outside the castle gates, Leon plucked at the fabrics with an expectant look and Lucina remembered that she’d promised to tell him what they were for when they first set out to go shopping. She hummed thoughtfully, forming her explanation into something relatively cohesive, unconsciously voicing it as she did so.

“After the Tempest Trials around New Year’s, Princess Camilla has been offering to sew me a… kimono?” she stumbled over the foreign word, unsure of whether it was even the correct one, Leon indicated for her to continue though so Lucina assumed he understood what she was referring to, “I told her I didn’t want one, but that it would be nice to give Kiran something since they’re the one looking after all of us.”

She looked over at her companion, unsure if she had conveyed her point effectively, but Leon was nodding and Lucina caught an image of their summoner wearing the same exact outfit day after day. It was accompanied with some level of frustration that made her smile. 

Kiran called for Leon soon after they entered the castle's gateway. The archer left with an expectant look her way and Lucina nodded with a smile before heading deeper into the castle to look for Princess Camilla.


	4. Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some references to Ch.1
> 
> also I think I wrote the majority of this on 4 hours of sleep

He’d known Kiran possessed incredible power (they wielded Breidablik and could warp the fabric of universes when they summoned after all), but he’d never considered how powerful his friend was. Kiran wasn’t a traditional mage; for all their magical potential, Robin had certainly never seen them cast spells since he was introduced to the mysterious tactician. They didn’t exude presence, they didn’t ooze authority. In fact, Kiran rarely showed any outstanding quality outside of tactics and the instances space itself tore in response to their summons. The latter was all too easy to forget with the amount of odd stunts Kiran pulled at times.

(Apparently they’d gotten their hands on Reinhardt’s tome at one point and had attempted to use it. There’d been no response, of course. Robin vaguely remembers Eirika explaining the logistics behind it and understood rather quickly that the thick book is exclusive to Reinhardt. As the rumours go, Reinhardt had seen Kiran and, being fond of the summoner, had cast the spells for them. Kiran still doesn’t know, quite a feat considering that fact all the heroes shared a basic mind link with them. 

There’d also been the time Kiran nearly set the kitchen on fire although Robin attributes that fact mostly to sleep deprivation. They’d just met Sutr and Kiran made the library a secondary home right after that battle. Eventually, it’d been Fjorm who convinced the tactician to sleep then get some actual food. Kiran, for some unfathomable reason, had managed to get to the kitchen when no one else was there. They’d fallen asleep in the middle of warming up leftovers.

Those were just specific instances. Kiran had a habit of forgetting how to function has a basic human being on a daily basis and it makes everyone in Askr, summoned or otherwise, worry.

The point is, Kiran doesn’t act like someone extraordinary and without physical demonstration, it’s difficult to remember how much power is at their fingertips.)

The newer heroes, ones that have never seen Kiran do much outside of tactics, are all but convinced the cloaked summoner has no actual power. It becomes almost abstract to their oldest allies as well when Kiran refuses to summon for a period of time.

Then a unforeseen fight goes disastrously wrong.

The heroes win because even though they’d been ambushed, the enemy hadn’t had any actual means of winning and after the initial shock, it’d been easy to take out the threats on the opposing team. 

But it’d been an ambush. 

Genny’s thoughts are a whirl of possibilities, but Robin can pick out the beginnings of panic as her hands flutter over wounds that are long past treating. The ambush had separated the party with a well timed fire spell and in the confusion, Ryoma was badly injured. By some stroke of misfortune, a blade had managed to find and slip between two plates of armor. The same misfortune had spread the fire enough to be a danger and the team had had to leave or risk burning to death. Genny hadn’t been able to attend to Ryoma until he had trekked blood through half of Muspell and worsened an already serious wound. 

The pink haired girl looks up at him and he can already tell from the silent despair radiating from her before she ever says anything.

_I can’t save him._

Robin doesn’t comprehend at first, but as Genny slowly stands up and he and Ike kneel down, he begins to notice how still Ryoma is. The other Hero's skin is still warm, likely from the unrelenting heat of Muspell, but there’s an unnatural paleness to the sword user’s skin. Robin himself had alabaster skin, but there was still a pink tinge underneath the eerie color. There’s none of that currently in Ryoma’s. The wounds aren’t actively bleeding anymore either, instead sluggishly trickling blood. Still, he presses his fingers against the other man’s neck. 

And finds nothing.

 _What am I going to tell them?_ The question is accompanied with a flurry of faces and Robin tenses at the reminder. Quite a few of their allies were either related by blood or by pre-existing loyalty to Ryoma. This kind of news wasn’t going to be received well.

 _What is going on?_ Kiran’s calmness cuts though the brewing storm and all three of them snap up, _why can I only sense three of you?_

None of them answer and Robin can feel Kiran putting the pieces together. There’s a stunning stillness when they reach the conclusion then-

_You aren’t far from the main camp, correct? Don’t move._

He barely has the time to register his confusion when Kiran appears in a flurry of light. The summoner, however, doesn’t immediately go to Ryoma's side when the three of them back up. Instead, they stop a few paces short of the fallen hero. There’s no response to Ike’s confusion or Genny’s apologies and Robin thinks their summoner is furious with them for a moment. Ryoma had been one of Kiran’s first summons after all, but there’s no flare of anger against them. There is a low simmering of heat that’s self directed, but even that is muted by the pinpoint concentration coating everything with a layer of ice.

“What are they doing?” Ike asks, and Robin tries to hide his startled flinch. His companion gives him a half amused look but then gestures at their summoner, “No one concentrates like that when they’re saying goodbye.”

He’s trying to think of a response when he hears Kiran whisper something and catches sight of a medallion dangling between their fingertips. It appears to be a ritual to honor the dead until the golden sheen of the metal turns into a blinding light. Robin lifts his hands instinctively, but the brightness winks out as quickly as it’d lit up. Kiran flexes their fingers experimentally with a thoughtful hum, then turns suddenly and beckons towards Genny. Robin frowns at this.

“Shouldn’t we be heading back? Genny can’t do any more for him.”

The mirror still calmness radiating from Kiran ripples just the tiniest bit, then smooths again. They don’t respond, just repeats the same motion, gesturing Genny forwards. Ike catches her when she takes a step though and Robin can sense the beginnings of a question forming when Kiran turns their head towards them. The calm stutters, a quiet lake instead of a still mirror, and Robin finds his tongue curling automatically around the syllables of a defense spell that he swallows. Ike tenses next to him, likely sensing the bend and flex of the same power that’d summoned him here.

(Kiran possessed incredible power, but he’d forgotten they had it.)

Genny pushes them both away and steps forward next to Kiran before she can be stopped again. 

_Stay there. Wait._

They’re gathering magic for something. It curls against Robin’s body, poised and waiting for a command. Kiran waits until Genny nods slowly, then walks forward and crouches next to the samurai’s body. There’s a tight constriction, like an animal getting ready to spring then a terrifying release as Kiran twists their hands palms down and slams a galaxy of stars into Ryoma’s chest. The fallen hero arches, light spilling from his mouth and eyes as Kiran forces a boiling fury of condensed, raw magic down into him. 

Kiran stops just as suddenly as they’d started with an abrupt order for Genny to cast a fast healing spell on Ryoma.

“That won’t do anything. He’s-”

Ryoma coughs and Kiran shoves their hands over a wound that’s spurting blood again from a heart that’s restarted. They repeat the command again, this time with a slight edge to the thought that makes Genny jump. As she casts the spell and Ryoma’s flesh knits itself back together enough to slow the blood, Kiran stands with a flat order for Ike to help their injured companion to retreat.


End file.
